


Idolatry

by Filigranka



Category: Pillars of Eternity
Genre: Crack and Drama, F/M, Thaos/Woedica and Thaos/Lady Webb implied if you squint, and philosophical musings. somehow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-22 03:11:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17654960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Filigranka/pseuds/Filigranka





	Idolatry

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bazylia_de_Grean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bazylia_de_Grean/gifts).



 

They – _she_ – had kept the title. “The Watcher” sounded just right for the new goddess, the one watching mortals and the gods both, guarding and judging them. No sin, no injustice, no crime could escape her notice. And some of them she watched with understanding, some with compassion, some with cold amusement, some others with horror – and judged accordingly.

At least that was how it all was supposed to be. But Eora had other plans and turned into dust the arrogance and hubris of yet another creature.

‘I told you it would be like this,’ announced Thaos. He sounded suspiciously satisfied for someone supposedly on her side.

‘No, no, no. You told me it would be a humbling experience. You told me it’d be hard for someone of my, let me quote, “rare blend of idealism and naivety”. You told me it’d be different than I expected. That I’d see the sides to mortals and gods that I’d prefer not to, things I won’t be able to forget. You told me—‘

‘And it’s all true, isn’t it? You certainly weren’t happy to discover the true side of our gods—’

‘—they’re like children!’

‘—it was a humbling experience, you didn’t expect it and, as you’re kindly proving, it’s very hard for you.’

‘For me? For me? Discovering the beings with the power over life and death of every creature in this world—over this world itself!—are in fact seven-years-old children would be a hard discovery for everyone!’

She – the monument of her, re-designed from Woedica’s old one – shouted the last words loudly enough for the temple’s walls to tremble. The chandeliers at the ceiling swayed and the shadows followed, reminding the Watcher of the Glanfathans’ dances.  Glanfathans dancing, praying, killing, protecting the ruins – sacrificing their whole lives for their gods. The gods which were just a bunch of spoiled, bored, oversensitive...

‘Not at all. Even some of your... friends... took it better.’

‘You mean Pallegina.’

‘Pallegina’s joy was... out of the usual range of reactions, I admit. I meant Sagani and Hiravias. Or even this automaton of yours. Edér seems to be quite calm and content in his faith, too.’

‘Edér is a saint among men.’ This time, the Watcher raised her voice consciously, tried to make it sound dignified and powerful, like divine judgement should. ‘He is the one who should be a god. He would do much better than the  Eothas we have now.’

Thaos smirked. ‘If this is your wish, My Lady of the Thousand Eyes—‘

‘You know how I hate this title! It’s creepy! Like I was a spider or some other insect! And every time someone uses it Wael gets mad I’m stealing eyes-connected symbolism from him!’ She suspected the last part was exactly why Thaos liked this title so much. Irritating other gods was his favourite hobby, beating even irritating Her.

‘—if this is your wish, I could sacrifice a... region or two and raise him into the pantheon. It’ll take time, of course, but we might be able to trick Berath into making your favourite farmer immortal. I’d not recommend forcefully binding Eothas into his body — it’s a faster method, requires almost no preparations, but we all know how well it went the last time.’

The Watcher sighed and created the half-material body for herself in the In-Between realm, just so she could hide her face in her heads.

‘I wish Edér no harm. I wish him as far from this mess as he could be. He would be just so much better than _them_. All of my friends would. Most of the people... Like, Lady Webb. She would be a much better Wael than Wael!’

‘She was a remarkable woman.’ Thaos’ face darkened. ‘But she would just be a more... an easier to understand Wael. A Wael with more stakes in human affairs, Wael protecting Dyrwood and giving his faithful hints, which, even if seemingly unclear at the beginning, would lead to some clear answers. Wael with a purpose which the mortals would be able to understand.’

‘I see what you’re getting at.’ Pacing in the Immaterial Realm, even with some semblance of a body, was a futile task. There was no exhaustion, no real work of muscles, no price. No satisfaction. No relief.  ‘She would be a human Wael and therefore a horrible Wael. I am a human god and therefore a terrible god. But no worry, let’s just follow _your_ advice and I’ll become the best god of them all, the one hidden in the shadows, watching their actions and passing my silent judgement. The one feared. Like Woedica.’

Thaos bowed deeply and spat: ‘You’re nothing like her. With all due respect, o my Lady of Bold Moves and Sudden Promotions.’

The Watcher ignored the barb. Thaos was bound to serve her. He couldn’t and wouldn’t betray. And this sentiment for Woedica he had... For a goddess who was still too human, it was understandable.

She sighed again and forced herself into the mortal form. She still fancied the one she had been wearing when she... ascended. Thaos assured her this attachment was going to pass.

And perhaps he was right. Catching a glimpse of her form in the polished ritual mirrors, she noticed some... irritating little things. Like, her nose. Her nose was definitely too big. And it wouldn’t hurt if her hair was longer and thicker. She should probably change the eyelashes, too, while she was at it...

‘My Lady?’

Her attention snapped back to Thaos. Now, he was kneeling, bowing his head. Just like one should when his goddess decided to honour him with her material appearance. But Thaos saw her at least half a dozen times a day, listened to her pathetic questions — “I’d like to answer their prayers, how do I do this?”, “Aloth lost a spellbook in Caed Nua, how may I locate it? I don’t believe I can’t, I’m the Watcher of _All Things_ , you just don’t like him!”, “The judge needs an enlightening vision, how do I send him one?”, “The judge got it all wrong and interpreted my message about mercy as the call for arms to another crusade, help me revert it, _now_!”  — which made his insistence on the whole ceremony feel more like an offence than admiration. “See? I know how to treat you like a goddess, even though you’re not acting like one.”

‘Do you think I look better with longer hair?’ she blurted. Mostly to irk him a little. Mostly. ‘And perhaps I should darker it a little? So it would contrast with my—‘

‘Fulfilling the conventional, mortal images of beauty is one of those things which will bore you very quickly. Soon, you will be checking and expanding the boundary of mortal flesh, experimenting with looks breaking the laws of the physical world.’

‘But I ask you now.’ The Watcher put her palm under his chin, forced his face up, forced him to look at her, to see the woman  he had underestimated once. Let him understand she knew  exactly what it meant to him, before softening her face. ‘Do you like me better like this—‘ Her hair grew even longer, thicker, falling like a dark Southerner’s waves on her back and waist ‘—or like that? and in what colour?’ She made her hair shorter again, barely tickling at her arms, but darker, brown like the ploughed field, not in her usual almost white tone, more similar to air-dancing dust, caught in the net of sunshine.

‘My opinion doesn’t matter. For the faithful it would be better if you appeared in a way which would inspire either horror and awe, or sweet devotion. Since it’s obvious you’re still not ready for the first, then you should aim for showing them unnatural, eternal beauty.’

‘And which of these two is more beautiful to you?’

Thaos smiled. ‘Nothing on this world is beautiful for me anymore.’

The Watcher caught herself before following this smile – his lips – with her fingers and then cursed mentally. She was his Goddess, _the_ Goddess. She could do anything she wanted.

‘But the conventional image would have you wear long hair, impossibly bright, shining with light on its own. Does that answer your question?’

‘It does not and I’m displeased. But it’ll suffice.’ She finally made herself to touch his mouth, smooth his lips with her thumb, went higher, to his cheek-bone. ‘I can become whoever you want. Any of those pretty priestesses you put into your bed—‘

‘—it was never because of my—‘

‘—Lady Webb, if she was so dear to you. Or even Woedica.’

‘You would be just an empty shell,’ he barked. ‘An image without her soul. It would be like—loving a doll, like—‘

‘Like worshipping the false gods?’

‘They’re not false. Their power is real.’

‘So is mine. And I took the souls intended for Woedica. Took the souls which would have  fed Woedica. Doesn’t it make me an image with her soul?’ Her fingernails grew a little longer and sharper, enough to slice through his skin. Thaos hissed. ‘I’d say I’m at least ruthless and whimsical, and careless with my toys enough to be counted among them.’

He drew a breath. Smiled. ‘Oh, yes. This is what they all learn first. Whimsicality. I see the pattern continues, even with those who feel so much better than the old, childish gods, yet ask their own _prophet_ about their fashion choices.’

‘Fashion choices are very important for any ideological organisation. They build the sense of identity. Your own words.’ She let him go. ‘You imply I’m unfair to you, right? And so I shouldn’t usurp the title of the Watcher of others?’

‘To the contrary, I think your title suits you perfectly. You’re watching. Nothing suggests your gaze would be merciful or fair—or cruel, for that matter.’

Thaos seemed serious and this took her aback.

‘So you think I’m doing all right? Well, even?’

‘I think it’s for me to decide no more. It’s only your mortal sentiment which makes you seek my advice, like it’s your mortal sentiment which makes you care so much about Aloth and his books or the well-being of Sagani’s tribe. This shall pass, too. If your... friends... are lucky, they will die before you lose your interest in them and leave them without your favour and protection. Other gods love playing with each other’s toys.’

‘Can I stop it?’

‘What?’

‘Me becoming a god... I mean, me becoming like other gods. In terms of—‘

‘—detachment? I don’t think so. Once one sees millions of hungry souls, begging for mercy, it’s hard to care about the one man complaining about his crops. Of course, you need to put some care in the crops, too... So you learn to prioritise. See things in their actual proportion. It’s good for Eora.’ He sighed and rubbed his face. ‘You took the souls, but the process was... atypical. You will need time to fully calibrate to them. Many of your... individuality-focused qualities... will dissolve, then, my Lady. Once you feel the existence of millions of beings, with their opinions, emotions, thoughts, beliefs, feel it completely, it’s impossible to look at the world the same again. Till the only mortal thing in you is this... whimsicality and what you call “childishness”. Your transformation started even before, when you became just a usual watcher. Don’t tell me understanding others’ souls didn’t change you.’

The shadows on the wall went completely still, without even the normal faltering of the candlelight. The Watcher reached into her own memories, now just the memories of one of the souls within her , cherished and protected from the usual entropy whirlpool by what Thaos called “mortal’s sentimentality”. She _watched_ them, this time with this dispassionate gaze she taught herself in these last months, when both the faithful and the gods came to Her with their problems and quarrels. She watched them and watched them, one by one, saw how her decisions took into account more and more of the perspectives, more and more of interests and factions. Her decisions affecting not only the individuals she made them for, but whole groups and communities. Herself becoming more and more aware of that, adjusting her decisions accordingly.

She turned her gaze off. The shadows in the room were trembling, the candles started to flicker again.

Thaos said ‘I _am_ sorry,’ still on his knees. ‘But it was your choice.’

Sorry. They all were sorry, but did what they deemed right in the end. Perhaps she really wasn’t so different from them, the old gods, the gods Thaos had been serving and protecting, protecting and serving, throwing away his own humanity in his faultless devotion. The gods which once had been his friends, colleagues, family members, lovers—and he was the last one to remember them as such.

Perhaps she really was like them. Burdening him with the memory of herself. Demanding from him to answer her not as a believer, but as a father, mentor, friend, superior, brother, lover.

Perhaps when the time came, she would falter and grab the soul of Edér or Aloth, or her mother, or her sister, or—perhaps she would grab their souls and not let them go to forget. Perhaps she would force them, too, to be the eternal witness of her greatness and her weakness, her long-gone humanity. So they hadn’t forgotten, even after she would.

Perhaps it would be better if Thaos bore it all. No need for others to suffer.

‘I see no fault in you and your actions,’ the Watcher said and this time, her tone was perfect. ‘Hence I can’t accept your apology. But know you’re forgiven and beloved above any others. Always.’ She smiled, shook her head, tried to laugh.

It sounded dead. But only for a moment, then it got some warmth and the movements – rising, falling, dancing in circles – of the living things, like proper laughter should.

‘I’m getting better at this! This, this, the whole goddess stuff!’

And Thaos, rising from his knees, didn’t even argue.

 


End file.
